


Aach

by KyberChronicles



Series: The Alias Series [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Aliases, Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dialogue Heavy, Drunkenness, F/M, Feelings, Pining, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 23:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyberChronicles/pseuds/KyberChronicles
Summary: Jyn took a breath and quickly swallowed the kyrf in one gulp, wincing as it burned a trail down her throat.  She glanced over at Cassian again as he was placing his empty glass back down on the table.Well, she thought.  Here we go.** COMPLETELY RE-WRITTEN AS OF 3/12/18 **





	Aach

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it will probably make more sense if you read "Joreth" first.

Jyn had never been one for what-if’s.

Things were the way they were.  There was no point in wondering what could’ve been or what could happen in a future that was never certain to begin with.  

She had seen enough drunken, melancholy fools moaning into bottles to know that she’d find no happiness there.  It seemed like an obvious show of weakness-- or, at the very least, it was a distraction. And for most of her life, she couldn’t afford any moment of either.  It’d get her caught, hurt, or killed.

She still couldn’t afford it, really.

Even though she wasn't alone anymore.

She was fighting a war against an enemy that had an advantage in nearly every way.  Whether she was a Partisan, a prisoner, or a rebel--a distracted, weak fighter was a dead one.

So it was only when she believed that she was knocking on death’s door anyway that she allowed herself to wonder--

Just for a moment, under the flickering lights of the turbolift, with his arm curved around her shoulders, looking down at her with those  _ damned eyes _ of his, broken and bloody and still more beautiful as anyone she had ever known--

_ What if?   _

_ What if we had more time? _

But another problem with what-if’s that Jyn had learned is that once you started asking them, it was very hard to stop.  Particularly when the Force decided to turn them from what-could’ve-been into what-actually-happened. 

Because she and Cassian  _ were _ given more time.  A finite amount, like anyone else, but more than she had ever expected. And whatever it was that she felt towards him caused her brain to turn into a veritable what-if  _ machine _ .

This was problematic, obviously.  As his partner, it was her job to have his back at all times.  Hell, she had demanded her role because she wanted to be able to protect him, not to spend her time wondering about plethora of possible situations.  Nevertheless, her brain kept supplying her with them.

_ What if I made him laugh? _

(She got an answer to that: There was a faint dimple on the right side of Cassian’s face, just under his cheekbone, that only appeared when he was moments away from dissolving into a laugh.  She was strangely fascinated with it.)

_ What if I let him in? _

(Another answer: he would do the same.  It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes their inexperience at personal relationships led to misunderstandings, which led to frustration, which led to arguments.  But no matter how clumsy and slow, their connection was growing.)

_ What if he feels the way that I do? _

(She had no idea what to think about that one, especially since she couldn’t understand her own feelings about him, most of the time.)

_ What if I lose him? _

(And that was the big one.  That was the biggest what-if that plagued her mind on a near-constant basis, her most notable distraction.  It made her, simultaneously, want to run away from him as fast as she could and grab hold of him and never let go.  It terrified her.)

Nevertheless, Jyn was determined not to put herself or Cassian at more risk than usual, so she learned to shove the thoughts aside when they appeared, where they usually stayed until they found a quiet moment to harass her.

Most of the time.  

Yet there she was, mid-mission, tucked into a booth in a dingy tavern on Mos Espa, and desperately trying to will her mind to focus.

Not that she hadn’t taken note of all possible exits and formulated at least seven scenarios for quick, forceful exits in the first two minutes of their arrival.  She also had adjusted all of her weapons for easy access in the small booth, and scanned the crowd multiple times for suspicious characters.

She knew that Cassian had done the same, even though he hadn’t once slipped out of Aach’s relaxed position where he sat in the corner of the booth.  His arm was casually laid over the top of the seat behind her, his legs stretched out under the table. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes crinkled with mirth.  Every so often, he took a long, slow sip of the drink in front of him, which actually had alcohol in it.

Jyn had made sure  _ hers _ did, too, after glaring daggers at him when he placed their order and tried to keep her from getting her own drink.  It was a trick he pulled every time they were faced with eating or drinking on a mission-- the one bit of Cassian that he allowed himself to show.  Most of his aliases wouldn’t care if she had a drink, but Cassian, wanting to protect Jyn, definitely did. Partaking in anything from an unknown source was always a risk, even though they never did so without discreetly testing it with the toxin tabs they always had on hand. There were also certain chemicals that it wouldn’t pick up-- medications that could make them drowsy or stronger alcohol to weaken their judgment and reaction time, for example.  But they could never be certain that the Empire hadn’t developed an undetectable poison, or that they had used a faulty tab.

As hard as he tried to prevent her from doing so, Jyn wasn’t about to let Cassian take that risk alone.  They’d argued about it multiple times, and she still refused to budge.

(The fact that she had someone around who wanted to protect her didn’t go unnoticed, however.)

Cassian’s eyes briefly flickered over to her when she took a sip of her own drink, and she hid a knowing grin behind her mug.

_ Deal with it, Captain. _

But he had already gone back to discussing the underground dealings of some higher level Imperial officers with their informant, who only knew of Cassian as Aach, the smuggler.  

This particular informant was a pleasant one-- Jyn had met Henkir, a large Locan who owned an infamous black market storage facility on Batonn.  For someone who dealt with shady characters on a daily basis, he was friendly and forthcoming, always offering to buy “Aach” and his co-pilot “Sifra” more drinks than they could possibly have in one sitting, while challenging them to drinking games.  The man always left their meetings drunker than a tawd’s uncle, crowing about outdrinking them.

Jyn noted that today would be no exception, as Henkir laughed loudly and swung his mug of god-knows-what around, some of the liquid sloshing over the top.  

“Well! I hate to bring this party to an end, but I have to go meet up with a couple of Hapans about, well…. it would be disrespectful to say,” Henkir announced, his furry eyebrows dancing on his large forehead.  “But before I do, I’m having the bartender bring over some shots of kyrf for us.”

Jyn raised her eyebrows. Kyrf was one of the strongest liquors in the galaxy-- one shot would make a full-grown Wookie tipsy. Both she and Cassian would be properly drunk if they imbibed.

“Aach” let out a laugh and shook his head.

“And how would we pilot our ship afterwards, my friend? You’re very kind, but I’m afraid we can’t--”

Henkir leaned over the small table and pointed a fat finger at Cassian.

“You have avoided letting me buy you a drink for too long, smuggler, and I’m not having your excuses this time. Either you take a shot with me or I will be forced to believe that you distrust my intentions and don’t want our partnership to continue, understand?”

Jyn looked over at Cassian.  He was playing it cool, the smirk still firmly in place and his expression still relaxed and friendly, but she knew he was hedging his bets in his head.  He barely paused before rolling his eyes, affectionately exasperated.

“Come on, Henk. Are you really going to be this dramatic over a drink?” he asked.  “Calm down. I’ll have the shot, but Sifra will have to--”

“Nonsense! All that talk about her being uptight-- she needs some kyrf more than you do,” Henkir interrupted, waving his arm to get one of the waiter’s attention. “Let’s get our shots. I’m sure you two can find _ something  _ to do to occupy your time until you sober up, eh, Aach?”  He laughed loudly again.

Jyn risked a glance at Cassian as Henkir turned his back to speak with the waiter.  His gaze was solid and sure as he tilted his head at her.

_ Are you okay with this? _

She shrugged.

_ I am if you are. _

He nodded at her.  Apparently, the information that Henkir provided the rebellion was important enough for both of them to risk a drink without testing it, and knowing that they would be impaired afterwards.  Jyn wasn’t exactly worried-- she had gotten drunk plenty of times before and still been able to take care of herself. The likelihood that either Henkir or one of the bartenders would poison them was low, and there was some comfort in knowing that both of them were drinking.  Things were easier when they faced them together.

Glasses were plunked down in front of them, filled to the brim with a purple liquid.  Henkir raised his, and both Jyn and Cassian followed his example.

“May the Force continue to grant us fortune, though we are but humble swindlers,” he chuckled, knocking his glass against theirs and tipping the liquid into his mouth.

Jyn took a breath and quickly swallowed the kyrf in one gulp, wincing as it burned a trail down her throat.  She glanced over at Cassian again as he was placing his empty glass back down on the table.

_ Well _ , she thought.   _ Here we go. _

* * *

“You’re too good at this,” Cassian complained, and Jyn cackled at the petulance in his voice.

“Are you  _ whining _ , Captain Andor?” she asked, gleefully.

“As your commanding officer, I’m allowed to whine,” he replied, grinning.

“But not win, apparently,” Jyn shot back, and laughed at the scandalized look on his face.  She liked him like this-- open and laughing, in a different way than Aach. Cassian had been quiet and tense on the walk back from the ship, fighting the effects of the kyrf on his senses.  He had grabbed Jyn’s hand and not let go of her until they had gotten back to the ship, where he finally started to relax.

They were stretched out on one of the wings, playing Horansi as they sobered up.  The suns were setting in the skies above Tattooine and they’d have to go inside soon before it got too cold, but for now the sun was warm on their skin.  They had both discarded their jackets and boots, rolling their sleeves and pant legs up to stay cool. The cards were spread out on the durasteel in front of them as they faced each other.

(Jyn had somewhat forgotten that Cassian was still dressed as Aach, but was quickly reminded when he shed his jacket.  The v-shaped collar of his shirt dipped down to nearly the bottom of his sternum, and the skin there was dusted with dark hair.  She was having trouble looking away from it.)

The wing was also littered with nutrition bar wrappers and multiple canteens-- aids to help them sober up quicker.  So far, it was slow going. Jyn’s vision still tilted every time she blinked, and any movement of her head sent the scenery spinning.  But she was warm and comfortable, and they had landed far enough out from the city that they’d be able to see someone coming towards them from miles away.  

And so, she was simply enjoying Cassian’s company during a rare break from the war.

She watched his fingers flip through the cards in his hands and squirmed at the heat it sent down her spine.  She remembered how it took a week for the bruises that matched those fingertips to fade from her skin, after the situation at Madame Xeeta’s that neither of them had ever mentioned again.   This, of course, led to memories of the feeling of having him pressed so intimately against her, how she could feel exactly how turned on he was by--

“Can I ask you a question?” Cassian blurted out, thankfully interrupting her thoughts.  Jyn flinched.

_ Stop that _ , she sternly told herself.

“Sure,” she said out loud, leaning back on her hands and stretching out her legs-- she had been sitting cross-legged for too long.  Her toes were inches away from Cassian’s knee and, with fierce concentration, she pointed them until her big toe brushed against the material of his pants.  When she looked up, he was watching her foot with a strange smile.

“Are you… happy?”

Jyn blinked.  He had looked up to watch her face, his dark hair hanging in front of his eyes.  

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You stayed,” he supplied, tilting his head and peering closely at her. “Why?”

“Are you asking me this because you’re drunk, or because I am?” Jyn asked, raising an eyebrow.  

He grinned, and her stomach fluttered. Drunk Cassian definitely smiled too much for her to handle.

“Probably both.”

Jyn wiggled her feet, thinking.

“I used to tell myself that I didn’t care about any of it: the rebellion, the Empire.  But I’ve chosen to fight now. And even though this war has never and probably will never stop taking things away, it’s also given me more than I ever hoped for.  A purpose, I suppose. But also a roof over my head. Food and water. And… people.”

She looked up at him, and gave a him a small smile.

“People who stick around when things go bad.  People I can trust.”

His stare was so intense she looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I… I don’t know if I’m happy, but I’m… I’m…” She struggled to find the word to describe whatever the feeling was in her heart: the quiet, settled peace that had only arrived recently.

“Home,” Cassian supplied.  “You’re home.”

Warmth spread through her chest at his words and she found herself grinning at him.

“What about you? Are  _ you _ happy?” she asked, after a moment, nudging his knee with her toe again.

He looked down at his lap.  He was quiet for awhile before he answered her.

“Those of us in Intelligence are encouraged to avoid forming attachments.  They tell us, early on in our training, that it’s easier. Safer. I never really thought about it before, but…. I think I understand what they mean, now.”

He looked up at her, thoughtfully.

Jyn frowned.

“Having a partner is… difficult?” she asked, unable to completely mask the hurt in her voice.

Cassian huffed a wry laugh and looked back down at his hands.

“Yes. Particularly one who isn’t a droid.”

Jyn pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her arms on them, and felt anger (and a good dose of fear) rising in her.  What was he trying to say? That he didn’t like having her around?

“I never really had to worry about Kaytoo getting hurt or killed, because he could always be repaired.  I never had to care about what he would think of me-- for the way I had to act, the people I had to be, the things I had to do.”

He clenched his fists.

“Now, I do worry. I do care. And it’s harder.”

Jyn was silent, not sure how to respond.  She watched as the muscle in his jaw jumped.

“But,” Cassian continued, still refusing to look at her.  “It’s also… better.”

There was pause.

“ _ I _ am better.”

Jyn let that sink in.  It was probably the most open Cassian had been with her, and that thrilled her a bit, but she also thought she understood what he meant. She had always been frustrated with her tendency to care, trying to force herself not to just because it was easier-- easier not to look up, easier to pretend her father was dead, easier to only worry about herself.  But it had also been incredibly lonely, and, now that she thought about it, maybe  _ not _ as easy as it seemed at the time.  So it wasn’t that Cassian didn’t want her around, it was exactly the opposite.  He felt  _ better _ with her around.  He… cared. About her.  The knowledge, the reminder of that fact warmed her better than any sun in the galaxy ever could.

She watched as he slowly looked up at her, nervous at first but then relief dawned on his face.  His mouth quirked.

“What?”

_ What if he feels the way that I do? _

Jyn realized she was grinning at him again and quickly pressed her mouth to knees.

“Nothing.  I…” She glanced at her cards, nearly forgotten, in her hand. She laid them down between them.  “I won again.”

Cassian cursed and she cackled, extending her legs back out towards him.  As he collected the cards back into an organized deck, she felt fondness spread out from her chest all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

And she knew, without any doubt, that  _ she  _ was better, too.

So she surged forward and grabbed his arm.  He froze under her touch.

“You don’t have to worry about what I think of you,” she said, swallowing down her fear.  It was important for him to know that. But she got distracted by the warmth of his skin radiating through the material of his shirt, by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he watched her.  He licked his lips and she felt drawn to the action, unable to look away.

“Why is that?” Cassian asked softly.

They were leaning far too close to one another.  

“Because…”

_ Because I couldn’t possibly think less of you when I always want so much  _ more _ of you.   _

And then she realized what she was admitting to herself.  What she was  _ doing _ .  

What  _ they _ were doing.

What they were  _ risking _ .  

_ What if I lose him? _

_ What if I lose him? _

_ What if I lose him? _

Jyn quickly straightened up and pulled her hand away from him, cheeks pink and eyes wide.

“We need to sober up,” she breathed.  

The spell was broken.  Cassian scrubbed at his face, then nodded.  

“Yes, we do,” he agreed emphatically, and grabbed one of the canteens at his side.“More water. More food."  Unsteadily, he wobbled up to his feet.  Jyn couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her and he shot her a look as he stumbled over to the edge of the wing.  

“Cassian,” Jyn called out, biting her lip.  She still needed him to know.

He looked back at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I’m with you. No matter what. Got it?”

The smile he gave her sent her heart racing all over again.  

“Got it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I KNEW I'd end up rewriting this. Not too many differences story-wise; I very much wanted this one to be able feelings and dialogue between them, and to show how much they trust each other at this point in their relationship (and yet can only really talk to each other like this with the aid of kyrf goggles). But don't get comfortable: there's a whoooole lot of angst coming up.
> 
> Willix will be the next and final part of this trilogy, and from Cassian's POV. I literally have no idea when that will be done and posted. Writing is hard.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
